


what a feeling to be a king beside you somehow

by orphan_account



Series: jarry drabbles [1]
Category: Little Mix (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:38:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9553070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He smells of sweat and deodorant and so painfully familiar Jade could quite happily stay here all day.





	

"Since when do you smoke?"

Harry exhales again, eyes trained to the sunrise across from their hotel room. "Zayn," is all he says.

Jade hums, nonchalant. Harry feels her press against his back, wrap her arms around his waist, forces himself to ignore the swell in his chest. She's always like this, first thing of a morning. Soft.

Like she hasn't pulled at Harry's hair and gasped into is shoulder as she came, not three hours ago.

In the years - Jesus Christ, _four years_ \- they've been hooking up, between cities and continents and performance events, whenever there's an overlap, Harry's gotten used to Jade falling asleep first while he's too wired, gotten used to her clumsy affection of a morning, the same way she's become familiar with waking up alone, having to pull him back down to earth when she knows he's overthinking this - _thing_ between them.

"Leaving anytime soon?" She asks him, yawning. Harry puts his cigarette out, tosses the stub over the balcony.

"In a few weeks," he replies, turning to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

"Ah," Jade stifles another yawn, and the swell in Harry's chest becomes an ache.

This, neither of them are used to. Jade casually informing Harry she's in LA, alone, Harry almost dropping everything to meet her in a hotel. And for the first time, neither having to leave for any work related reason.

It's quiet for a long drawn out moment, the two of them just watching the sun rise, before Jade prods him in the ribs.

"Dunno about you, but as gorgeous as the sun is, I'd rather sleep till noon," she mumbles into his shoulder. Harry laughs before letting her drag him back to bed.

\--

The first time, the very first time, was 2012 at the Brit Awards after party, in the disabled toilet.

(It isn't either of their proudest moment, although Jade still brings it up now and again just to make Harry cringe.)

It hasn't felt real, at the time. He was about to take over the world and she was still recording an album. Back when the world didn't feel so off kilter, when there hadn't been a strain between him and the other boys, when Zayn didn't have that hollow look in his eyes and Louis hadn't been so angry.

Jade had been short, he remembers that much. Short and dressed in pink and whimpering as he'd shakily pushed inside of her against the bathroom sink, skirt hitched up her thighs, both of them more than a little tipsy and high on adrenaline.

It was stupid, it was unprofessional and dumb - Harry doesn't regret it at all.

\--

Jade whines involuntarily as Harry pulls out; Harry kisses her forehead in quiet apology for the discomfort, tying off the condom and tossing it in the trash can. Jade automatically wraps herself around him when he turns back, and Harry huffs softly into her hair.

"Want anything from room service?" He asks, knuckles running over her spine. Jade shivers, tightens her hands around his waist.

"Tea," she says sleepily, "and toast, please."

Harry makes the call, Jade dozing on his chest. He cards a hand through her hair, watches the sun slant on the floor and walls.

"Could go back to my place, if you like," he says casually. Jade shifts herself up, small frown on her face. Harry sweeps a finger over her cheek.

"Paps would have a field day if we're seen," she reminds him. Harry grins.

"You've not met my security detail."

Jade rolls her eyes before swinging her legs off the bed, and Harry allows himself to admire her naked frame as she stretches.

"Wanna shower with me?" She asks him easily - he's struck, again, with how stupidly easy it is between them now.

"Nah, I'll wait for the food," he responds, checking his phone. Jade pads over to the bathroom, not bothering to lock the door.

Harry tips the guy at the door when he brings their food up. Jade sits on the floor of the balcony, damp hair leaving patches on Harry's t-shirt that's far too big for her. He sits next to her, knees knocking together.

They eat in easy silence, Jade cross legged and surrounded by breadcrumbs. Harry drinks his water and tries not to stare.

\--

Jade wakes up because Harry is tracing patterns on her stomach.

It's pitch black and her mouth is dry, thighs still aching from riding Harry on his sofa as soon as they'd got into his house. Fumbling, she reaches for his hand, hears his breath hitch as their fingers intertwine. He's sat up against the headboard, hipbone next to her head.

"You okay?" She croaks warily.

"Yeah," he breathes back, hand now flat across her stomach and navel. "It's just -" he stops, and she feels his thumb circle her belly button.

Jade's heart clenches. She knows what he's thinking about, knows it's dangerous territory for both of them, because it's almost a rule that they don't talk about it, won't talk about it.

She still thinks about that night, when she'd called him crying, telling him what had happened, and he'd fumbled for words, tried to comfort her in any way he could over the phone even though he could barely process it himself. They hadn't mentioned it in person; she'd told the girls and her parents, suspects he'd told his lot too.

"Been thinking about it a lot lately," Harry whispers. "Since, you know, Louis and Freddie. Thinking what it would have been like."

"Please don't," she pleads, tightens her grip on his fingers. He meets her eyes then, finally.

"Okay," he kisses her. "Okay."

\--

She can't remember much of those three days, a month after their first tour. Vaguely recalls Perrie holding her up in the shower when the bleeding had gotten heavy, being tucked into bed, writhing in pain with what she thought at the time were bad cramps.

Eventually, she'd been dragged to the hospital, despite weak protests she was _fine_ , it's just a heavy period, being off her pill and all.

(She wonders, now, what would have happened had she not gone. If she hadn't been told something had died inside of her, if she'd continued to believe it was just a heavy period. How different she'd feel.)

Nine weeks, they'd told her later. She'd been nine weeks along. They'd done an ultrasound, showed her the empty gestational sac where a foetus should have been. A stress related miscarriage, her body going through too much physical turmoil on tour.

She hadn't even known it'd been there until too late, yet the grief she felt made her want to crawl into bed and never come out again.

Was it possible to grieve for something she never properly had?

\--

Harry had been in Birmingham when she'd called him, gasping sobs down the phone as she'd tried to tell him what had happened, what they'd lost without realising they'd had. It felt like the world had been pulled from underneath him.

Weeks later, in London, he got drunk and accidentally told Niall everything; about Jade, about the baby, the miscarriage. He'd cried and cried until he couldn't feel anything, and Niall had just held him, stricken.

"I'm sorry, mate," he'd quietly say later, when Harry was retching in the hotel en suite, Niall rubbing his back soothingly. "You need someone to talk to, you know where I am, yeah?"

He'd called his mum and his sister, and they'd cried too, told him how sorry they were, to pass their love to Jade.

(They find each other again four months later, and fuck like nothing had happened, like a part of them both hasn't been permanently altered.)

\--

Jade wakes up alone, as usual.

Except she's not in a hotel room, and Harry isn't brooding at a balcony or restlessly writing in that leather journal of his. His room is warm, the bed too big and empty. Jade stretches across it, listens for any sounds of life in the house.

Wearing one of his t-shirts, she pads down to the kitchen, finds a note propped up against the fruit bowl;

 _gone for run_ , _help yourself to breakfast_. _H x_

'Breakfast', accourding to Harry, apparently meant rabbit food. Jade makes a disgusted noise as she rummages through his kitchen, shaking her head and tutting when she eventually finds bread stuffed right at the back of the cupboard.

She settles for fried eggs on toast, turns the radio on as she cooks. James Bay 'Hold Back the River' filters through the kitchen, Jade mindlessly singing along.

A hand slipping under the tshirt and pressing against her bare hip tells her Harry's home.

"What kind of self-respecting northerenman doesn't own teabags?" She chides, suppressing a shiver as he bites gently on her neck.

Harry laughs, hands spanning over her abdomen. "Not much of a caffeine guy. Water over coffee." He smells of sweat and deodorant and so painfully familiar Jade could quite happily stay here all day.

Jade shifts away from his roaming hands, tipping the eggs on top of buttered toast. He pours out orange juice and sits across the counter from her.

"Spoke to the other boys lately?" She asks lightly, tries to distract herself from the way her skin is burning under his gaze.

He scoffs a little, eyes flickering just behind her head. "No," he says honestly. "Well, Niall called a few days ago, just checking in. And Louis is keeping up the weekly Freddie photos." His tone is fond now, eyes faraway. His hair's much shorter, Jade suddenly notes. And it looks like he's been trying - and failing - to grow a beard.

"I told Niall."

Jade starts, finally meets his eyes. "Hm?"

"I told him. About -" he gestures towards her, frowning.

"About us?" Niall talks, but not so much as to cause trouble. Jade's always had a soft spot for him.

Harry clicks his tongue softly as Jade slips off the counter to the sink.

"The baby."

Everything goes still. "Oh."

"It's not - he hasn't -" Harry struggles for words. "God, it - it feels like a part of me is just - gone, yknow? Like, I didn't even know it was there and it's _gone_." He's flexing his fists, hands clenching where they're resting on his shorts.

"I know," Jade whispers. She reaches for him the same time he does her; they meet in the middle, his face pressed into her chest and her face and hands in his hair.

"Always wanted kids," he manages between soft sobs.

Jade lets tears fall into his hair. "Me too."

\--

Later, in bed, Jade makes a split second desicion as Harry pulls his fingers from her and fumbles for a condom.

Jade grabs his wrist. "Don't."

Harry stares, one hand still on the inside of her thigh, stroking gently.

Neither of them breathe until he nods slowly, moves so he's between her legs and hovering above her.

He pushes in with a moan, one hand on her hip and the other against her neck, holds her down and fucks her in a fast steady rhythm. As always, the look of pure determination on his face makes her laugh; he bites into her mouth in response.

Jade gasps, scratches at his back as the heat in her abdomen uncoils and she comes, legs winding round Harry's waist as he rides out his own orgasm inside of her, whites out with the sheer pleasure of it. She pulls his hair, hard, as he leaves a trail of bite marks from her throat to her breasts.

Face in the crook of her neck, he breathes shakily. Jade hums, stroking his back, already feeling the tug of sleep.

"You okay?" Harry finally asks, pulling out. Jade shifts uncomfortably at the loss.

"Tired," she mumbles. Harry presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Sleep," he whispers. "I'll wake you up in time for your flight."

\--

Harry drops her off at LAX and kisses her hard against the car. It's dark now, they're hidden under the sheet of night.

"Call me when you land?" He asks.

Jade just nods, reels him in for another kiss.

\--

She tells him in London.

He's cut his hair again, likes having it short. She watches him from the counter, watches him dance between frying eggs and making tea. His brow is furrowed, tongue between his lips intently.

"I'm pregnant," she says calmly.

Harry drops the kettle. The eggs burn. He spins her round the kitchen and cries and doesn't form proper sentences.

They're in bed and he's got his ear pressed against her stomach, face an expression of awe.

There's a mountain to climb from here; releasing a statement, going public, probably having to rearrange tour dates and album recordings. Jade doesn't care.

This, right here, Harry whispering to her belly, her hands in his hair. This is good.


End file.
